City Secrets by Jessica Burkhart Read Free Book Online Page A

green street sign, and the words “Madison Avenue” stared back at me. It made me smile—I loved New York.
    â€œSilver!” Heather said. She grabbed my elbow and pulled me forward. “People are going to think you’re weird if you just stand there staring at a
street sign
.”
    â€œSorry,” I said. “But you’re used to this. I’m not. It’s still a big deal.”
    The look on Heather’s lightly tanned face softened. “Yeah, fine. Okay. But it’s way better inside, so let’s go.”
    â€œOkay.”
    We walked down the sidewalk, weaving around people, and walked toward a red awning that said barneys new york. Under the awning, a giant window display showed three mannequins dressed like models from a Paris runway. I almost stopped walking, but there were so many people on the street, I didn’t want to get run over. We walked under a second awning, and the beyond-brilliant shade of red didn’t impress me any less the second time I saw it. This window display showed off crisp men’s suits that looked like clothes you’d see at the Oscars.
    I followed Heather up to the one-story-high glass entrance, and we walked through the revolving door. I walked a few feet before I stopped. Someone clipped my shoulder.
    â€œSasha! God!” Heather said. “Act like you’ve been in a store before. You can’t stop in the middle of the doorway.”
    But I barely heard Heather. Barneys was
insane
. And I was only five feet inside the door. I wasn’t a shopaholic, but this place could make me one, considering we wereonly on the first of what looked like many floors.
    â€œC’mon,” Heather said. “This is where all of the tourists walk around in a daze—like you’re doing now. I know exactly where we need to go.”
    Heather navigated the crowd with ease and I followed behind her. I noticed how everything about the way she moved screamed
New Yorker
. She didn’t sidestep anyone, but didn’t plow through the crowd either. She walked with purpose and knew exactly where she was going. I felt like a puppy tagging along behind her. I tried to copy her posture—head up, shoulders back—and the look I was sure was on her face: a cool disinterest in the people around her.
    We walked past counters of makeup and skin products. I couldn’t even read all of the brands—I had to focus on Heather so I didn’t get lost in the crowd.
    â€œSample, miss?” a woman asked Heather. She spritzed a tab of paper with perfume and held it out to Heather.
    Heather walked past without even stopping.
    We passed the M.A.C. counter, where a woman was sitting in a chair, having blush brushed onto her cheeks by a makeup artist. Women were hovering over the makeup counters, pointing at shades of lipstick, types of moisturizer, and different tints of concealer.
    Heather and I made it to the elevator and she pushed the up button.
    â€œWe’re starting with the second floor,” Heather said. “Sienna works that floor and she’ll give us special attention.”
    â€œLike, she’ll help us find sizes?” I asked.
    The elevator doors opened, and Heather and I squeezed inside the crowded elevator. Someone had already pushed the button for the second floor.
    â€œLike, she’ll make sure dressing rooms are always empty for us and she’ll help us find the perfect clothes,” Heather said. “It’s actually always been really fun when I’ve done it.”
    â€œThat’s so cool,” I said. “We have our own personal shopper.”
    The elevator doors opened, and Heather and I got off with a few people.
    â€œAll the clothes we need are on this floor,” Heather explained. “They’ve got all the best stuff. We need to walk back to the customer-service counter.”
    â€œLead the way,” I said.
    Heather was excited about this—there was no denying that.